


A Taste of Submission

by Parallelodise



Category: DCU, DCU (Comics), Forever Evil (Comics)
Genre: Abuse, Broken Bones, Crying Harold, Dildo Gags, F/M, Femdom, Humiliation, Lasso of Submission, M/M, Puppy Play, Sorry Not Sorry, Threats, Torture
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-30
Updated: 2019-09-10
Packaged: 2020-09-30 09:27:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20444873
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Parallelodise/pseuds/Parallelodise
Summary: Mainly Superwoman( and sometimes the rest of Crime Syndicate) taking advantage of Power Ring





	1. A Taste of Submission

“P..Please...”

Harold sobbed and hiccuped as he twitched within his restraints. His wrists were already chafed raw by thorns on the Lasso of Submission. He was kept on his knees for hours. Arousal mixed into admiration and fear of the woman standing before him. 

“No.”

He let out a loud wail at the denial before a hand slapped him across the face. Superwoman sneered, rubbing the pad of her thumb into the bright red mark on his exposed skin causing him to gasp. Earning himself another strike on the same cheek where skin began to swell.

“I’m disappointed, Power Ring. Even my pups knew how to keep quiet. Do I have to gag you again?”

Harold bit his bottom lip, struggling to hold his tongue still in his mouth rather than swallowing it down in regret. He adored her, offered himself for her to use as she please and slurped up pleasure hungrily in doing so. 

Last time he had been gagged was when he choked on the fucking machine, she had his mouth strapped shut with a dildo stretching his throat for half a day before Ultraman all but ripped it off in fury. Whether it was because of Superwoman or Owlman or his own weak reputation, Harold hoped for the best, he was never more wrong. He’d rather not be reminded of the aftermath, he lost his voice the day later, Lois was much harsher on him for the rest of the week and Owlman slicing him across his back due to an ‘accident’. Making sure he was broken into a sobbing mess in the dirt when she’s done with him. When he pleaded for Deathstorm to remove his Ring for an hour or so only to stay on his feet. Deathstorm’s hollow, black eye sockets stared back at him, dismissing him without release after long minutes when Harold started to squirm in anticipation. Sharp pricks snatched him back from memories. His tears found a way out when Superwoman tightened her grip on the lasso around his neck, forcing his head back against the stone wall.

“I’d like to see you fucking try to space out with me again,” Harold shook as his weeping cock was pressed into the cold cement by her foot, “don’t you DARE cum or I’ll crush it right now.” 

Harold took a deep breath between the throbbing pain and his painful arousal to Superwoman. She merely rolled it under her foot and he had to grit his teeth -catching the inside of his mouth in the process- to turn the scream into a small whine. Superwoman kept at it until his erection went soft. 

Harold ended up standing after Superwoman reeled her lasso off of him. All he need now was a firm command and he’s limping after her, The Ring of Volthoom covered him with a thin layer of constructs in the mocking form of clothes, exposing his sensitive areas but pulled open wounds together so he’ll be ready for Superwoman whenever she wanted. Any stimulation to his cock, even if the only touch was against his thighs, it burned in pain. Superwoman didn’t look back to check on his abused body, instead floated off the ground for speed. He resorted to crawling again, she wouldn’t like to see him when he’s standing and he couldn’t keep up with her without chafing his cock or worse, bleeding from down there. Spreading his legs further just to not risk anything, he crawled after Superwoman.


	2. Time to see a doc

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Owlman knows when something's up

He wished Volthoom could at least set his left wrist back in the correct position. Volthoom did fix the skin, just left the bone crocked. Deathstorm wasn’t bothered to do so unless he could peel back layers of skin and muscle tissues to expose the bone. Since a Power Ring doesn’t need a perfectly working hand to be of some use, others wouldn’t care anyway. It's not like he’d ever need to write or make anything with his hands. Food is an exception but some parts of the kitchen were always stocked up with protein bars, Owlman made sure of that. 

The Syndicate hung out in their underground base straight after the fight. Ultraman snacking on green kryptonite. Superwoman unharmed, twirling a strand of her hair. Johnny stretched across his chair lazily with Atomica perched on his shoulder, chatting on the opposite side of the table. Owlman stood with Grid next to a hybrid of complex screens and machines set into the stones, voice barely audible from where he was standing. The thought of visiting him sent a shudder down Harold’s spine. He clung closer to his exothermic ‘partner’, shifting his bodystance from time to time due to both heat and anxiety even under Volthoom’s protection. 

Stop moving so much, you piece of crap. Volthoom snarled in his head.

Harold stilled, only letting loose a small sound as bones scraped against one another under his skin. Next thing he knew, Owlman’s done with Grid, leaving him to pull up various windows and was heading towards the table himself. 

“We are going to tame Europe next, Grid and I have given enough warnings to each main independent authorities. Same drill. We strike, we kill. Starting tomorrow.”

Owlman caught him before he could leave with Deathstorm, his gloved fingers gave him a sharp tap near his wrist. 

“You are coming with me, Power Ring.”

So this is where he ended up, strapped down into the one chair in the medical wing with Owlman looming over his left side. His mask showed no emotion as he cracked Harold’s wrist and set it back the right way in a matter of seconds. Harold paled immediately, breath caught in his throat while his body finally registered the pain ripping through him. He whizzed for several seconds before Owlman dug his claws into his shoulder forcing out a high pitched shriek from Harold. He shook from the new searing pain involuntarily as Owlman pulled away to sterilise the wound and patch it up. He pondered Owlman’s reason through the throbbing pain, barely able to mumble out words,“Thank...thank you..” 

Owlman held up his hand, “I do need something from you.”

How pathetic are you, you freak. Everyone’s going to step on your body like a sack of useless dirt.

Harold strained to smile at the sadist.  
“Anything..Owlman.”

“Good.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading


End file.
